


all wound up and short on time

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Humiliation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-28
Updated: 2012-05-28
Packaged: 2017-11-10 17:39:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>He can never get enough of the effect he has on Harry, it's addictive, and this is just taking it to a whole new level. Maybe it's partly the idea that all these people are </i>watching<i>, seeing just how skilfully Louis can work Harry into a total frenzy with the tiniest things.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	all wound up and short on time

**Author's Note:**

> For a certain few people, who know who they are. Inspired by the fact that Harry apparently had a boner during the matinee in NYC a couple of days ago ([fan account](http://www.twitlonger.com/show/hiuoth)) and then after their outfit change Louis had a stain on his trousers ([photo](http://i.imgur.com/YVBlX.png)). This fandom is becoming a problem for me because I do not even have to make things up anymore. :| Lyrics from 'All Wound Up' by She Wants Revenge.

Louis can't help it. At this point, teasing Harry comes as naturally to him as breathing. He barely even notices he's doing it sometimes, if he's honest, and tonight he really doesn't think he's even been that bad with it, which is why he's surprised when he notices how flustered Harry is during 'What Makes You Beautiful.' He looks like he's having to try _really_ hard to focus on singing, and he's kind of moving his arms about awkwardly. That's when Louis realises that Harry's trousers are bulging just a tad more than usual, that there's a noticeable swelling in the crotch. And it's not actually new; they've both accidentally had physical reactions to one another in public before, but it's never really been anything obvious enough for people to pick up on it and Harry's making this pretty blatant, all flushed and anxious.

Louis goes up to him at the end of the song, and Harry hisses at him, "You got me hard, you tosser," in a frantic sort of voice.

"Wow, Hazza," Louis replies, grinning, "get a hold of yourself."

He risks a glance down at Harry's crotch—Zayn's talking to the crowd now so hopefully people are focused on him—and he catches a quick glimpse of the bulge there, even bigger now, before Harry's suddenly whirling away, hand pressed to himself, his face bright red. Louis is stunned; it's never been _this_ bad before, and something about the way Harry can't even get a grip in front of this massive fucking audience is making Louis excited, knowing that he did that to him without even really trying. Harry is completely freaking out, and does the only thing he can think of to escape the situation, fleeing partially out of sight offstage. Louis can still see him, he's just behind a barrier, his head still visible, and he's clearly trying to sort himself out, fiddling with his trousers in an attempt to make his erection less obvious.

Louis just loses it, cracking up, _high_ on this. He can't believe he's got Harry so worked up that he doesn't even seem to care how weird it looks that he just ran away when they were about to start the next song. Niall and Zayn are laughing too, and Liam looks confused at first and then sort of stern when he catches on, like he's silently telling Louis off for riling Harry up like that. Harry reappears then, still looking anxious but not quite as obviously hard, and they go quickly into 'Save You Tonight', trying to move past it. Harry is sweating and he keeps tugging his shirt down though, trying to cover himself, and when it gets to the point where they're all supposed to jump he doesn't, and Louis shakes his head at him disapprovingly as he passes him. 

It's clearly difficult for Harry to get through the song and it's not easy for Louis either, actually, because the fact that he's provoked Harry like that is making him _giddy_. Louis's always kind of enjoyed making Harry feel a little embarrassed in interviews and stuff and the onstage teasing is just an extension of that, but it's never been like _this_ , making Harry get an actual stiffy in front of nearly three thousand people. Louis feels bad for him, he really does, but it's also kind of shamefully exciting somehow—he keeps sneaking glances at Harry to check for any signs of distress, to see if he's still all red and fidgety. He can never get enough of the effect he has on Harry, it's addictive, and this is just taking it to a whole new level. Maybe it's partly the idea that all these people are _watching_ , seeing just how skilfully Louis can work Harry into a total frenzy with the tiniest things.

Luckily for Harry this is the last song before the encore, and as soon as it ends he's racing off the stage towards the dressing room, leaving the others to follow, still laughing and shaking their heads.

"I hate you," Harry says to Louis as they head inside to change.

"I didn't do it on _purpose_ ," Louis shoots back, grinning as he peels off his t-shirt and tosses it over his shoulder. "Not my fault you can't control yourself around me."

Harry just narrows his eyes and turns away from him, presumably so he doesn't have to keep watching Louis strip in case that makes matters worse. Louis actually admires Harry's restraint, which isn't something he's ever had cause to do before in all the time he's known him. Harry seems very focused, like he's steadfastly ignoring his hard-on, willing it to go down as he undresses and then starts pulling on his suit. Louis is pretty turned on too by now—seeing Harry just lose control of his own body like that, knowing he _did_ that to him, that gets Louis hot. He tries to focus on changing his own clothes but he can't help thinking about how they've only got one more song to go. He smirks to himself a little, toying with the idea of teasing him some more when they go back out there, wonders what else he could do and how desperate he can make Harry by the time they get back to the hotel, if by then he'll be all needy and pleading, his voice cracking as he begs for Louis to touch him, or blow him, or maybe even fuck him without any preamble.

Louis takes a deep breath, trying to push the thoughts to the back of his mind as he checks his reflection, straightening out his braces. Then over his shoulder in the mirror he sees Harry, dressed now too and looking at him with a strangely intense expression that makes him suddenly realise that he's been putting _entirely_ too much faith in Harry here. He only has time to think _fuck_ before Harry's striding purposefully towards him, predatory, taking him by the hip and steering him towards the bathroom that adjoins their dressing room. Louis stumbles, arms flailing out, but Harry just pushes him into the room and backs Louis into a corner, eyes fixed on him, dark with lust.

Liam just has time to say a despairing, "Oh _no_ ," and then yank the door shut behind them before Harry is unzipping his own trousers, shoving his boxers down out of the way and pushing his cock out towards Louis without a word.

Louis bites his lip, looking down at it, seeing how full and thick it is, feeling the sticky-hot press of it. God, Harry's so _tall_ now—when they used to do this they'd align with each other easily but now Harry's dick presses against Louis's stomach instead of his crotch, and Louis's shirt is thin; he can feel how achingly firm Harry is through the fabric. Louis honestly didn't realise it was _this_ serious, thought Harry just got a semi and was overreacting, and it seemed like he'd calmed down by the end of the last song anyway. Apparently having to immediately go into a more private room and undress with Louis got him all hot under the collar again. 

Harry tilts his hips insistently, his hands behind his back as he makes his cock drag against Louis's tummy, rumpling his shirt a little. He's so stiff it's almost painful, like if he shoved forward he'd _bruise_ Louis almost.

" _Fuck_ , you're hard," Louis breathes, not even caring that he's stating the obvious when they don't have time for that—or any of this—right now.

"Your fault," Harry says, his voice low and rough. "Now fix it."

Louis knows he should tell him no, but he also knows there's no way in hell he's _going_ to. They really don't have a lot of time and an erection like this isn't going to go down in a minute without one of them doing something about it. There's literally no way Harry's going to be able to hide a bulge that big, and Louis might get a bit mean sometimes but sending him out there in front of thousands of people when he's _this_ wound up would just be downright cruel.

He sighs, lifts his hand up to his mouth and spits into his palm. "C'mere then, let me take care of you." Harry moans gratefully as Louis's fingers curl tight around him and start to stroke, and Louis looks at him fondly, thinking about what a fool he is for getting himself into such a state that _this_ is what they have to resort to, a handjob in the dressing room during a costume change. It's so reckless. "Idiot," he whispers, grinning.

"Your fault," Harry grits out again, bucking into Louis's fist.

"We have to be quick," Louis reminds him, speeding up the rhythm of his palm, slick with spit, gliding over Harry's shaft.

"Not gonna be a problem," Harry says heavily, and he's moving in even closer, trapping his cock and Louis's hand between their bodies and forcing Louis harder up against the wall. Louis breathes out steadily, trying not get hard too because wow, they really don't have time for this as it is, _one_ of them needs to be able to fucking control themselves. 

And clearly that's not Harry, because he's rocking his hips desperately, trying to fuck Louis's fist as Louis attempts to stay in charge and pumps his cock hard and fast. Harry makes a sort of whining sound and then muffles himself by ducking his head and bumping his lips up against Louis's, his mouth hot as it opens and lets Louis's tongue in. He's clutching at Louis's hip with one hand and his shoulder with the other, fingers clenching tight, thrusting against him until he can't focus on kissing anymore and he's just panting against Louis's mouth, staring fixedly into his eyes. He's basically just rutting into him at this point, rubbing off against him, sliding his cock through Louis's hand over and over and moaning way too loud considering the others are still just next door. 

For a second Louis wonders if they are, or if they've gone out onstage now to stall. He hopes they haven't, because that would make the fans pretty suspicious if they aren't already. They usually drag things out a bit before the encore but not for _this_ long, and he thinks about the audience standing out there and getting impatient and his stomach twists with something. He can even hear the low rumble of their cheering and applause if he strains his ears.

"C'mon, Haz," Louis murmurs, smirking, "you're keeping people waiting."

Harry goes pink and his expression seems to go tighter, his jaw clenching like he's simultaneously turned on by what Louis just said and also mad at him for it. His lips slide from Louis's mouth to his ear and suddenly he's whispering, "Gonna come on you," in a voice that makes Louis shudder, partly because the way Harry sounds when he's seconds from orgasm is really fucking hot, and partly because—

" _No_ ," he gasps, alarmed as the words register in his brain. He drags his hand down to squeeze tightly at the base of Harry's cock to try stave off the orgasm but it's too late, he can't win this one. Harry nips at Louis's earlobe with his teeth, which always makes Louis lose composure in about a nanosecond, and Louis's fingers go slack around him right away. Harry takes his chance to dart back a little, taking his cock in his own hand now, giving it a few last tugs and deliberately angling it so that when he shoots his load, it splatters Louis's trousers, just to the left of his zipper, a hot spurt quickly soaking into the black fabric.

"You little _bastard_ ," Louis hisses out, frantically dabbing at the splash of come immediately, trying to—he doesn't even know, rub it in, wipe it off, _something_. Without thinking he brings his fingers up to his mouth to get them wet with spit in case that'll help, and then he tastes Harry on them and whimpers pathetically, flustered, simultaneously so aroused and so _annoyed_. He wonders if this is how he makes Harry feel all the time.

Harry's just laughing, satisfied, as he tucks his dick back into his pants and zips his trousers back up. "Once again, _your fault_ ," he says. "Now we're even."

"We are so not, oh my god," Louis says, panicky, rubbing his wet fingers against the mark. 

God, it's going to dry so white and obvious and Harry fucking knew exactly what he was doing, Louis realises that now—he deliberately made himself wait 'til Louis had changed and they were just about to go back onstage so that Louis would have no other option but to head out there like this. And the worst part is they've done this before, a few months ago when they misjudged how much time they had before a signing and had to go to it with stains just like this on their trousers, _both_ of them. Harry just seemed to take it in his stride, practically wearing it like a badge of honour, but Louis was so anxious and twitchy about it, totally freaked out by the thought that people might see and connect the dots, and there aren't many things that get him self-conscious and embarrassed like that so _Harry fucking knows_ —

"Better go back out there now," Harry drawls smugly, "like you said, we're keeping people waiting." 

He's quickly washing his hands off in the sink, and Louis steps forward to look at himself in the mirror, trying to judge how obvious the mark is. It suddenly occurs to him that this might have something to do with Eleanor—Harry's been a bit moody ever since she got here, especially because she's attending some of the concerts, and god, what's he trying to do, mark his _territory_?

There's a sudden knock at the door and Zayn's voice says, " _Please_ tell me you two animals are done in there."

Harry grins brightly at Louis now, flinging the door open as he shakes his hands dry. "Yep," he says happily.

Zayn looks between them, noting the panic in Louis's eyes and the wet patch on his trousers. "Jesus Christ," he mumbles. "Are you serious?"

"I hate him," Louis announces, voice full of self-pity as he stomps out of the bathroom.

"Only got yourself to blame, Lou," Harry calls after him. Liam is standing there waiting for them with his arms folded and his angry face on, but Harry just shrugs at him and says, "What? He deserved it."

Niall is in hysterics until Louis elbows him in the ribs. He thinks about how he's going to have to go out there and act like nothing's just happened, and for a moment he feels bad about enjoying Harry's earlier humiliation.

...But mostly he just feels pissed.

"You're gonna pay for this, I hope you know that," he tells Harry as they head back towards the stage, speed-walking because this has definitely been a suspiciously long interval.

"We're _even_ ," Harry insists, but where the two of them are concerned, that only really ever lasts until the next concert. And the next concert is tonight, Louis remembers, with a little thrill.

That thought makes him feel better, makes him feel like he might be able to cope with this. They reach the stage and he's already planning how he's going to get Harry back for this, even as he's taking a deep breath and having to run out and face the screaming crowds again with Harry's come still drying on his trousers.


End file.
